Glass Slippers
by Laurena Garret
Summary: Harry calls Tim after Kill Ari (Part II). [Slipperverse] Pre Tim McGee/fem!Harry Potter.


_**Warnings: (for entire story) Mild language**_

_A/N: Just something nice and fluffy._

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It was tempting just to let his cell continue to ring and make her go to voice mail, but Tim knew his friend and when she was persistent and wanting of something she wouldn't stop until she got it. He flicked the phone open with one movement.

'Are you ok?' the worried English voice said on the other end.

'Yes, I'm fine, why do you ask?'

'There's been a lot of chatter. Hermione just told me that they were picking up word that an NCIS team were getting directly involved in taking down a terrorist.'

'That's nothing new Harry.'

'I know but it's the first time that you have been involved.' She paused and Tim heard the sound of papers shuffling around in the background. 'So I'm going to repeat, are you ok?'

'As alright as I'm going to be at the moment.'

'It's not the first time you've been involved in something dangerous,' Harry said and Tim could hear the smile.

'Most of those times were because of you, remember,' Tim replied.

'I remember quite well,' Harry said.

'But this is the first time I missed being hit by an inch at the most.' Tim paused. 'We lost Kate.'

'I know. Hermione told me.'

'I didn't know at first. It was twenty minutes before Gibbs and Tony came down the stairs, but they didn't need to say anything-'

'You just knew.'

Tim didn't need to know how Harry had managed to deduce it being all the way over in England; it was just one of the many quirks that were a part of Harry. It came in handy at times but other times it was nothing but a pain in the ass.

'Tony said that I should thank the terrorist for being a lousy shot and shooting Kate instead.'

There was complete silence on the other end of the phone. Tim could picture Harry, sitting on her beaten leather couch, hunched over the coffee table that would be littered with papers, her long black curly hair falling over her shoulder and her nose pinched between her thumb and forefinger, pushing her glasses up slightly while she counted to ten.

'What?'

The anger wasn't completely out of her voice, Tim could still hear traces of it, but it was under control which was better than nothing.

'He said that I should-'

'Yes, I got that. What in the fucking world would him say something like that?'

Her voice was short, clipped, almost like she was holding in her anger so she didn't blow up in front of a child. More than likely her God-son, Teddy, was in her flat.

'Who knows, it's Tony.'

'That explains nothing,' Harry replied.

'Well if you knew Tony it would make perfect sense.'

'At the moment I would be tempted to shoot him after what he told you if by any chance I ran into him,' Harry replied.

'You don't have a gun.'

'No, but you know I could get one easily,' Harry said.

And he did. She had proved it more times than he was comfortable with.

'I don't think the team would be able to cope with the death of two agents in one week, Harry.'

'I never said I was going to kill him. I would be tempted to shoot him but I wouldn't kill him. I have people who could do that for me if the need was there,' Harry said.

'I know.'

'So other than Tony DiNozzo being a complete and utter prick and the death of your team mate, are you ok?'

'Honestly?'

'I'd rather honesty than you lying to me.'

'I've had better weeks.'

'Do you need something? I could call Penny and Sarah for you, explain the situation and have them take you out. I could send a care package, it's been a while since I've sent you anything with silly string.' Tim smiled remembering the last care package that Harry had sent had been covered in silly string on the inside. 'Or I could come over. Just say the word and I'm on the first flight over to the Colonies or in the case of the US – ex-colonies.'

'It's a nice offer but no, I'm fine.'

'You sure sound it.' He could hear the sarcasm dripping off the statement. 'Seriously, I will jump on the next plane and be with you in twenty-four hours. I'll even go to the funeral with you.'

'The funeral was this morning. We flew out to Kate's hometown and met her parents – her family.'

'That is always the hardest part. Forget about the team mate or colleague dying; it's facing up to the family when you know exactly what happened to them but can't tell them everything that makes the whole situation that much worse.'

'I didn't think you went to funerals. You refused to go to Grandpa Norman's despite the fact you knew that Penny would have loved you to have been there.'

'I haven't been to a funeral since Sirius', which was six months before I met you. I do go to the wakes though and they're just as bad.'

'Harry can I ask you a question.'

'Sure.'

'Did you know that Ari was in the US? Did you know what he was planning.'

There was no pause to think over Tim's question. 'No.'

'Honest Injun?'

'Honest Injun,' Harry replied. 'Surely you know me better than that. Anything the concerns you that I'm told about results in me I instantly call you, regardless of the time of day or night. I knew nothing about Ari until about half-an-hour ago when Hermione called me to tell me what they had been picking up in the chatter. Sometimes it's a good thing to have a best friend who is part of an intelligence agency but it would help if they were a little quicker with the calling and a little slower with the thinking the decision through.'

'I'm part of an intelligence agency.'

'Yes, but you my dear mostly focus on crimes and murders in one particular field and you're not my best friend.'

Tim frowned. 'Oh.'

'We both know that we're unable to define what it is that we are to each other. Right at this moment you're sitting somewhere between best friend and soul mate, which is a much higher position than Hermione or even Ron could hope to achieve.'

'Really?'

'Oh yeah. I mean they're my best friends and I would die for them but they feel more deeply for each other than they do for me. If it came down to it I know who they would choose over me and I'm ok with that. You on the other hand, I'm constantly surprised by. You know eighteen months ago had this happened you would have been a total mess. Yet here you are sounding completely relax and at peace.'

'I don't know why. I don't feel any different.'

'You're conditioning yourself. Had this happened when you were still at Norfolk you would have been a mess. Your time with Team Gibbs has shown you more of the world and as a result you know that what happened to Kate wasn't anyone's fault other than the terrorist that shot her; eighteen months ago you would have been berating yourself for being unable to help.'

'Gibbs is.'

'Gibbs is the team leader and therefore it's kind of in his job description that he needs to berate himself for the loss of Kate. Plus from what you have told me about your team, Gibbs doesn't take losing all that well, and losing a team member must really piss him off.'

'How are you able to be so insightful when you're halfway across the world and have never met these people?'

'Elementary my dear McGee,' Harry replied. 'We both know how I am with picking up the little things. It's one of the reasons why I'm always in trouble and why you were always dragged with me when we were teens. It's also the reason why your Dad dislikes me so much.'

'Dad is good with the disliking,' Tim muttered.

'So – is there anything I can do?'

'Right now?'

'The visit is still an option.'

'No. Why don't you tell me what you're working on? What interesting case has got the amazing Harry Potter, Private Detective, bent over the coffee table ruffling through papers.'

'Oh, you're good and you're never going to believe this one. A woman is missing a pair of glass slippers.'

'What is she Cinderella?'

'Quite possibly, I haven't met her in person but from the amount of Beaucratic Red Tape I've had to go through just to e-mail her I'm going to guess that she's either royalty or someone high up in the British government maybe even married to someone high up in government.'

'Have you talked to Percy?'

'No! Why would I do a thing like that? I can't stand him on good days let alone bring myself to ask who this woman is-'

Tim laid back on his bead and stared up at the ceiling; letting Harry talk about all the details pertaining to the case.

Come tomorrow he would be back at work, trying to work out how things would be now that Kate was gone. He figured that it would be like walking in glass slippers, trying to find the right stride so that the pressure wouldn't cause the glass to shatter.


End file.
